


Wipe it Clean

by snarkysweetness



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Skyeward Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkysweetness/pseuds/snarkysweetness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye wanted to argue with her but she knew they all thought she was losing her mind; she didn’t need to encourage their fears. She simply nodded and followed her to the lab. When she saw blood seeping through her fresh bandages she said nothing, knowing then it was all in her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wipe it Clean

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell ‘red’ was the Skyeward Week prompt that I had the most ideas for.

The first time it happened it was May who found her.

Skye sat curled up in the corner of the shower away from the steady stream of water, sobbing as a steady stream of red swirled down the drain. She hadn’t even realized she was no longer alone until May touched a cloth to her forehead and began wiping away the dried blood on her temple.

After some coaxing Skye allowed her to lead her back under the water where she forced her eyes shut, unable to stomach the sight of the blood as it rinsed off of her body.

Once she was clean May led a numb Skye to bed and tucked her in. She stayed with her the entire night, holding her and stroking her hair while Skye stared at the wall of her bunk in silence until she succumbed and drifted off to the sleep.

With sleep came the nightmares and when she woke screaming May was there to keep her grounded.

The next time it was Jemma.

Skye had showered six times and no matter how hard she scrubbed, how scalding the water was, the blood wouldn’t wash out. She was stained with it. She stood in the shower, crying in frustration, muttering about how it wouldn’t come out. 

“Skye?”

Jemma’s voice was quiet and filled with worry.

Skye glanced up at her slowly and held out her hands, fighting back a sob. “Why won’t it wash out?” She was so frustrated she was growing angry. She just wanted it gone. She didn’t need the reminder; she already had enough every time she closed her eyes.

“What, Skye?”

“The blood, you have to see it too,” she replied hysterically.

Jemma stared at her sadly for a moment before reaching in to turn off the water. She held out a towel and met Skye’s eyes with pity.

“They’re burned from the water, Skye. There’s no blood. Come, I’ll bandage them for you.”

Skye wanted to argue with her but she knew they all thought she was losing her mind; she didn’t need to encourage their fears. She simply nodded and followed her to the lab. When she saw blood seeping through her fresh bandages she said nothing, knowing then it was all in her head.

That night she pretended to be asleep when May and Coulson came by for their nightly check-in.

“I’m worried about her, Mel. She’s not getting any better.”

“Give her time, Phil.”

He sighed. “You _would_ know what she needs.”

Skye’s eyes were closed but she could picture the smirk on May’s face as she said “don’t you forget it”.

When she woke the next morning Coulson sat sleeping in a chair, clutching her hand and her face was stained with tears. She could no longer fight the nightmares. They were such a common occurrence she’d begun to sleep through them but she would still cry in her sleep.

Each time she closed her eyes that night played in her head. Her father taking a knife to Grant, using him as a sacrifice and to get him out of the way, and in her grief-rage she’d killed him, becoming the monster she’d always feared she’d become.

She’d never seen so much blood in her life, not even when she’d been shot. She’d been drenched in it, on the verge of completely falling apart when May pried Grant from her arms.

“Let him go,” she’d whispered and only the look of pain and understanding in her eyes had kept Skye from unleashing once more. Instead she’d fallen apart and began weeping for everything she’d just lost.

It happened again days later.

She’d avoided the shower until she couldn’t. Whenever she stepped foot into it everything would rush back and she’d see herself covered in the blood of the man who’d created her and the man she loved and the vividness of the memory would send her spiraling back into a dark pit of despair. She knew she had to face her fears and deal with that night but how was she supposed to heal and move on when something as simple as bathing triggered memories of that night?

She felt his presence the moment he followed her into the small bathroom. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into his touch, taking comfort from the fact that he was still here. Coulson had forced her to sleep in her own bed but her nearly every waking moment since that night had been spent at his bedside while he healed.

He’d somehow survived and she was going to hold on to him for as long as she could.

“Grant,” she whispered as she turned to lean into him.

He ducked his head and placed his lips on hers as he joined their hands and brought them up to his bare chest. Despite wanting to avert her eyes she couldn’t help but stare at the fresh scar that ran along his torso. She gently touched the skin along it and pulled back quickly when he winced in pain.

Tears filled her eyes. He’d almost died because of her and she’d killed someone, her own father, because she thought she’d lost him. They were both monsters now.

Skye just hoped she could find a way to live with herself but she didn’t know where to begin.

He led her to the stall and she hesitated before following. She tried to fight of the visions. She knew her hands were technically clean but they were stained. She had so much blood on her hands. So many had died because of her; an entire village in China, her father’s followers in Bahrain, and even her father. How many more deaths would she cause? Sometimes she felt if the trauma didn’t kill her then the guilt would. 

She stood in silence as he gently ran a washcloth over her body. Skye fought off the images of that night, reminding herself that they were just memories, they weren’t real. She surprised herself by keeping it together for so long. It wasn’t until he was rinsing her hair out and she opened her eyes that she began to weep.

The sight of the drain is what did it. It brought back memories of all of that blood washing away and the guilt and grief that she always carried with her erupted, unable to be contained in her small body.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Grant whispered and he hugged her against his chest.

“I killed him,” she whispered.

“I know, baby,” he muttered into her hair. He understood all too well what it meant to be a killer.

She wanted to ask him how he did it, how May did it, even Trip; how did you take someone’s life and move on? But she knew the truth. They didn’t, not really. It was always there, they carried it with them every day. She just had to figure out how to cope with this on her own. And she was trying, so hard, but she feared it would never be enough. 

Grant shut off the water and wrapped her in a towel before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Come on, you should try to…” he sighed, as if realizing she wasn’t going to sleep. “Let’s just go to bed, okay?”

There was nothing else to do. She forced herself to eat when they made her, she’d done as much work as she could to keep herself occupied but there was nothing to do plus her therapist had told her to just ‘take it easy’. She didn’t want to take it easy, she wanted a distraction. She didn’t just want to lie down and run through it all in her mind but she took his hand anyway and followed him to their room.

Before he could help her into bed she pressed her hand to his scar and glanced up at him sadly. “I’m sorry, this was my-“

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. “Shh, you’re not to blame for any of this.”

She blinked away tears and shook her head. He was so wrong. He only saw the good parts of her; he refused to see how damaged she was. This was her fault; all of it. She’d caused so much damage just by being born.

She was a fucking disaster.

Skye tucked herself underneath his chin as he wrapped both arms around her. “How did you do it?” She whispered. She didn’t even have to specify, they both _knew_.

“How did you forgive me?”

“I love you,” she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Grant pulled away and lifted her chin with a small smile.

“Oh,” she whispered dumbly.

She wasn’t sure if love could help her move past this and forgive herself. Maybe she too needed a stint in prison. He’d worked so hard to right his wrongs. How was she supposed to right hers?

“Skye…” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “It’s not your fault. Your parents were killers; you aren’t responsible for anything they did, even the things they did because of you. You’re only responsible for your own actions and…” he sighed. “And that wasn’t you, Skye. He pushed you, used the people you love against you, when you killed him…you weren’t in control. I know it doesn’t change anything but you need to forgive yourself so you can move on. Your father isn’t like the people I killed…” he glanced down guiltily before meeting her eyes once more. “You saved lives by killing him. I know you feel guilty but that’s because you’re a good person who did one bad thing. You can’t let that define you.”

She couldn’t help it; she started crying again. She knew he had a point but it didn’t change the fact that a part of her had died that night. She wasn’t the same. She’d stained her soul in a way that couldn’t be fixed and maybe she would learn to forgive herself in time but it wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Grant helped her into bed and held her tightly while she sobbed against his chest, stroking her hair. “Let it out, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Skye wasn’t sure when she stopped crying, maybe she’d run out of tears, but after what felt like hours of quietly lying curled in his arms she found her voice again.

“How do I make it clean again,” she asked quietly.

“What?”

“My ledger.”

Grant tangled his fingers in her hair before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You just do what you’ve always done, Skye. You’re good; you just…keep doing good. Keep helping people. Eventually you’ll feel like you again.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

She glanced up to find him smiling. He brought a hand down to cup her cheek. “Well then, you take comfort in knowing that no matter what you do when it comes to you and me, your ledger is the cleanest.”

“Grant-“ he was kissing her again and she sighed.

If he could find his way back to her and find a way to redeem himself maybe she could too. And even if she didn’t think she could she had him and the team and they’d get her through this. It was something and it was so much more than she ever thought she’d have. They’d be enough.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He smiled and kissed her nose. “I love you too.”

When it happened again it was weeks later and she had gotten the bright idea to give herself some happy memories associated with the shower and really, Coulson should have knocked.

“Coulson’s going to kill me isn’t he?”

Skye pulled him down by the back of the neck with a shrug. “Nah,” she whispered as she kissed him. “We all know what happens when my dads try to kill my boyfriend.”

She was nowhere near being better but hey, at least she could make jokes about it?


End file.
